


A New Tradition

by Pameluke



Category: Earth's Children - Jean M. Auel
Genre: F/M, Gift Giving, Prehistoric, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/pseuds/Pameluke
Summary: With Ayla scouting ahead, Jondalar takes the time to prepare a surprise for Ayla.
Relationships: Ayla/Jondalar (Earth's Children)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: New Year's Resolutions 2019





	A New Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/gifts).

Jondalar lets his kiss linger, trying to memorize the feeling of Ayla's lips against his own. When he opens his eyes, Ayla's are still closed, cheeks flushed a little. "I shall return," she says, her low voice certain. Jondalar knows she will, but still, he tightens his arms around her waist for a moment. They'd agreed on this yesterday, but now that the moment is here to part, he's reluctant to let her go. He's said goodbye to Ayla once too many times. Doing it now, even though it’s temporary, makes his heart ache.

Ayla kisses him once more, then slips from his arms. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I'll have scouted the river and found us a good place to cross," she tells Jondalar. She's right, of course, and he's not normally one to dawdle about practical things like this.

But still... They've been traveling together for so long now that it's hard to see her mount Whinney without preparing to join her himself. Everything in him wants to go with her. But Racer stepped into the hole of a marmot two days ago, spraining his leg. Ayla is sure it'll heal, but they shouldn't put any additional weight on him for now. But autumn is coming to an end, the leaves turning red and yellow all around them. They can't afford to linger much longer. In an attempt to save time, they decided to hunt to grow their food stores, and the meat that's drying all over their campsite will support them for a while on their journey. They're camping on a riverbank, and while they might have crossed it here on a normal day since the horses are strong and capable swimmers, Ayla doesn't want to strain Racer's leg any more if they can avoid it. Especially since the autumn rains have swollen the river considerably. This is no river like the Mother River, and compared to the Sister River, she's a calm running brook, but still. Jondalar has had enough traumatic river crossings to last him a lifetime, so he doesn't mind taking the time to find a safer crossing. Besides, if they want to make it to the glacier in time, they can't afford to lose the horses. 

So, Jondalar will keep watch over their campsite while Ayla will scout on Whinney's back, looking for an easier crossing.

The animals must sense Jondalar's unease because both Whinney and Racer are prancing, Wolf jumping excitedly around them. Jondalar grasps Racer's reins, patting his strong neck in an attempt to calm him down. All their attempts to spare Racer's leg will be in vain if he puts too much strain on it now. Even with his injured leg, Racer still wants to follow his mother, so it takes a lot of Jondalar's strength to hold him back when Ayla takes off, throwing one last wave his way from Whinney's back before she gallops away, disappearing behind the bushes scattered all around the river bank.

Wolf follows her, a grey shadow disappearing in the yellow grass. He returns once, as if wondering why Jondolar isn't following them. But when Jondalar doesn't move to follow Ayla, Wolf turns and runs after them, following the woman who has his heart.

Jondalar understands him all too well.

A quiet falls over the campsite when Jondalar has tied Racer down and calmed him. He feeds the horse some grass from his hands, appreciating the nibbling touch of the horse’s lips over the palm of his hand. Racer snorts, making Jondalar smile. "Yeah, boy. I don't like it either. But they'll soon return to us. In the meantime, it's up to us to prepare for our journey."

He leaves Racer to the grass, and observes the campsite. With Ayla gone, and he himself not able to travel further, for a moment, Jondalar feels unmoored. They've been stuck in a pattern of traveling every day for almost a complete cycle of the moon since they left the Sharamudoi, and now that he's not going anywhere, he doesn't know what to do with himself. It's been so long since he had this much time to himself.

Then, slowly, an idea comes to mind. 

It’s hard to surprise Ayla. She doesn’t lie or hide anything herself, and somehow, that means she can read any and all subterfuge in his body language. So while they're traveling, always close and together, it's almost impossible to keep anything from her. But she'll be away for at least a couple of hours now, which means she won't be able to tell he's trying to do something nice for her. Ayla never expects anything from Jondalar, which - in a way - makes her easy to surprise too. Sometimes, Jondalar feels like he surprises her just by pulling his weight. But that's not quite what he wants to do now. 

He remembers the look on Ayla's face back when they just met, when Jondalar had still been recovering in her little cave, and Ayla had taken care of everything. She'd spent the day hunting, and Jondalar had waited for her, keeping the fire, making her food. The look of gratitude and warmth on her face had made her beautiful even in her exhaustion.

Jondalar has always liked to give unexpected gifts to his lovers. Has always liked helping and making people's days easier. But for Ayla, he'd do anything to make her happy, so his desire to surprise her has only grown over time.

And now is the perfect time. 

Jondalar considers his options. He could carve her something, make her something beautiful. But finding the right material would take a lot of time, and he's already carved her something once, the Donai with Ayla's face. He still gets flustered when he thinks about it. Better to not repeat his own gifts. He could make her new knives, make use of his talent and craftsmanship as a flintknapper. But he's made her plenty of knives and tools, even when she's a capable flintknapper herself, so while he's sure that some new tools would make her happy, it doesn't feel special enough. She doesn't really need any.

He thinks on it while he absently adds more wood to the fire, making sure it stays hot enough to help dry the meat they cut and hung up yesterday. A smile curves around his lips when an idea comes to mind. He'll make Ayla so happy.

***

It's almost twilight when Racer's ears twitch and he starts prancing excitedly, looking northwest. Jondalar has been paying close attention to the horse for a while now, relying on the better senses of the animal to tell him when Ayla might be returning. He sees the grey shadow only a second before Wolf excitedly jumps up against his chest. Jondalar is happy to see the animal, reading from the wolf's body language that Ayla's fine and close by. He hears the hoofbeats of the horse next, and then Ayla appears from behind a bush, her hair blowing in the wind, a broad smile on her face the moment she spots him. She halts Whinney right in front of him and almost jumps into his arms. Their kiss is warm and happy, and the simmering unrest that's been present in his stomach all day settles down. He finally has the woman he loves back in his arms.

"Hi," Ayla says, when they finally take a moment to breathe, arms still around each other. Her cheeks are flushed from riding, her hair is windblown, and the smile on her face makes her glow. "Hi," Jondalar replies, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "I'm glad you're back." 

Ayla lets her head rest against his for a moment. "Me too. I found a good place to cross, but the forest on the other side is thick, so I wanted to see if we could follow the riverbank for a while. I think we could do it. If we let Whinney carry most of the load, and we both carry Racer's packs, we can leave tom-" Ayla's stream of words halts when she looks over Jondalar's shoulder. Wide-eyed and breathless, she moves towards the fire pit.

"What's this?" she wonders aloud.

Jondalar almost flushes. Ayla's looking at the flowers he's collected. It's autumn, so there aren't many flowers blooming anymore. But he still managed to collect some pretty greenery, leaves that have turned a particular shade of red, some heather and goldenrod, and assembled them in a loose configuration besides Ayla's sitting mat. "I know you enjoy beautiful things," Jondalar tries to explain. "Camping means we get to keep very few things simply because they are beautiful, so... I wanted to give you something beautiful."

Ayla smiles and squats down to gently touch a finger to a red leave. "You collected these for me?" she asks, voice filled with wonder. "Jondalar, I don't know what to say." Ayla absently moves her hands, as if she's trying to find the proper words in the sign language of the Clan as well. "Thank you," she finally says, still smiling while she keeps inspecting and touching the flowers. 

Jondalar watches on awkwardly, pleased and happy that his surprise is being received well, but still flustered at Ayla's heartfelt gratitude at something as simple as picked flowers. Smiling, he motions at her sitting mat. "Sit down. You must be tired after riding all day," he tells her, voice soft. "I've got some stew that should be warm." In his eagerness to take care of Ayla, Jondalar almost trips over Wolf, who's come to look what all the commotion is about. He fills Ayla's bowl with the stew -- Ayla did most of the preparation for it yesterday, but Jondalar roasted some roots and added them to their portions, adding a different texture and flavor to the meal -- then finds a couple of pieces the drying meat to give to Wolf, who settles down at the edge of fire pit. 

When he looks up after petting the wolf, he genuinely flushes when he sees the way Ayla is looking at him. There is so much warmth and affection in her eyes, Jondalar isn't sure he can ever be deserving of that much love. 

"Thank you for taking care of me," Ayla says, formally. "And thank you for looking after Wolf as well."

"You don't have to thank me," Jondalar says, sitting down on his own mat. "It was done with love."

Smiling again, Ayla takes a bite of the stew. Jondalar isn't as great a cook as Ayla is, obviously, but the gift is not his cooking skills. The gift is that Ayla doesn't have to worry about feeding them, that she only has to sit down and enjoy the meal. Ayla smiles broadly after her first bite, licking her lips. "You did all this?" There's genuine surprise in her voice. "It tastes delicious."

"You did most of the work; I just embellished," Jondalar says, deflecting her praise. "But I knew you'd probably ride all day and not take the time to eat, so I wanted to make sure you had something warm to eat when you returned." Ayla once told him that the way of the Clan to show affection was to take particular care of each other. Now, looking at Ayla enjoying the meal he prepared for her, he thinks he understands. There's something special in taking care of someone you love.

But flowers and a warm meal are not all he has prepared for Ayla. A simple meal alone wouldn't be much of a gift, even if Ayla feels it is. While looking for the flowers, he found some hazelnut too. It's not quite the height of the season for them yet, but there were enough of the nuts to be found to use in his final surprise. They don't have a stock of honey, like the Zelandonii keep at home, but he did find a maple tree to collect some of the sap. 

He waits with showing Ayla the fruit of his labor until she's finished her meal and is cuddled up against his side with some tea. "I have one more surprise," he tells her, reaching behind him where he hid the plate. Ayla angles herself away from the fire to be able to see the contents of the plate better in the darkening evening. "I don't know if you're familiar... I don't think the Mamutoi make this. It's something I learned at home." Making the dish had filled him with memories of sitting with his siblings at his mother's hearth, fighting each other playfully for the last of the spread. 

"We don't really have the grains here to make the flatbread to go with it," Jondalar apologizes. Looking for everything he needed today had given him a newfound appreciation for Ayla's vast knowledge of plants and food, because the season and unfamiliar terrain had made making traditional food of his homeland hard. Yet Ayla seems to be able to create the most delicious food even in the harshest circumstances. Still, in the way she holds herself, he can see that this is something new. "Normally you dip bread or cookies or even jerky in this. But since we have none of that, or need what we have for our stores, we shall have to make do with our fingers." Jondalar grins, thinking that somewhere, Martona is frowning at his manners.

He takes a bit of the hazelnut-maple paste on his index finger and holds it out in front of Ayla. She doesn't hesitate and licks it from his fingers, closing her eyes while she discovers the taste. Her smile is blinding when she opens her eyes again. "Jondalar! It's sweet! And delicious!" Still smiling, she swipes her own finger through the paste again, sucking it down enthusiastically. Then, still smiling, she does it once more, only now, she holds her finger out for him. Instead of licking at her finger, Jondalar sucks on Ayla's finger. The hazelnut paste is indeed delicious, not quite the same as the paste from his memory, but close enough that it fills him with warmth and comfort. He sucks on Ayla's finger until it's all clean, pleased when her cheeks flush with more than happiness. He holds out his own finger again, gasping a little when Ayla follows his lead and sucks on his finger. It reminds him of when she takes him in her mouth, and he can feel his arousal start to simmer.

Judging from the flush on her cheeks and the way her lips are parted, Ayla isn't unstirred either. They keep feeding each other the paste until the plate is cleaned. Ayla cuddles close again, watching the embers of the fire. "I don't know how to thank you," Ayla says. "The food, the flowers, the paste... This was all such a surprise." 

Jondalar tightens his arm around Ayla's shoulder, pulling her closer against his side. "I wanted to surprise you," he admits. "I wanted to take care of you for once." 

Ayla turns slightly in his embrace and kisses him softly on the cheek, then trails kisses all the way to his mouth. "I love you," she says softly between kisses. "I don't need surprises... but I do like them." Ayla smiles against his mouth. "So, thank you for everything." 

"It's my pleasure," Jondalar says in a rumbling voice, affected, voice affected by the strong emotion he's feeling. He didn't intend for the double meaning, but once he's said it, there's nothing he can think of but sharing Pleasures with Ayla. To show her how much he loves her. 

Ayla must be able to tell, because she stands up and pulls Jondalar with her all the way to their bedrolls in the tent, where she pushes Jondalar on his back and starts to divest him from his clothing. It's rare for Ayla to take the initiative like this, but when she straddles his hips to take him deep inside of her, Jondalar thanks the Mother for bringing Ayla into his life. The gift of her is all he wants.

The next morning, packing doesn't take long, since Jondalar had prepared most of it the day before. When their camp has been cleaned up, the fire doused, and the horses ready, Jondalar halts in surprise when he sees Whinney. Ayla's found the time to weave the flowers he gifted her into the horse’s mane and tack. "I didn't want to leave them behind," Ayla explains when she catches Jondalar looking. "Now we can enjoy the beauty of your gift a little longer, and so can Whinney!" 

Jondalar grins, pleased that Ayla genuinely seems to enjoy his gift, as simple as it is. He hoists his pack on his back. Then he picks one heather blossom from Whinney's tack and tucks it behind Ayla's ear. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful woman," he says, making Ayla blush. Jondalar kisses the smile off her mouth, then takes Racer's rein in hand. When Jondalar follows Ayla's path away from their camping spot, he's smiling too. It feels good, making the woman he loves happy. He should surprise her more often.

  


**Author's Note:**

> ... And that's how Jondalar invented Valentines, which coincidentally was the title of this fic for the longest time :D  
He's got the food and the flowers down, and the hazelnut paste <s>Nutella</s> will have to count for chocolates.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this gift, even though it's almost a year late. I know I had fun going back to the fandom of my youth. So thank you for offering me the chance to write a little Prehistoric Love. <3


End file.
